


Monster

by sigurfox



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Guilt, Love, M/M, Nature, No Sex, Shapeshifting, angbang, monster Melkor, prose, young Mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigurfox/pseuds/sigurfox
Summary: Melkor tests Mairon in primordial Middle-Earth.





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morgause1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgause1/gifts).



> Happy Birthday! <3

At the horizon among the sharp peaks, sticking out like shards of broken dishes, one tall solitary mountain was smoking. Silhouettes evolved slowly above their cradle.

Secret meadows. Flowers with teeth. Rustling forests. Lakes sheltering behemoths under seemingly idyllic surfaces. It was a continent for the bloodthirsty, for bizarre disembodied entities moving through the night.

Melkor’s hand was in Mairon’s fiery hair. Lips touching the dark constellations on maia’s golden neck promised a revelation.

Mairon could not refrain any longer.

"I love you," whispered he into the skies.

The whisper traveled like a lay of god in the lands where no one ever talked.

"We'll see, if you glorify my designs…" Melkor threw the vantablack cloak off them, it fell onto the wet grass like the deepest of shadows, a piece of the void. He pushed Mairon down, and Mairon sprawled on it, a radiant spark in the core of emptiness.

Melkor knelt in front of him and took hold of Mairon's bare ankle. It startled Mairon, made his heart flutter as if the Dark Vala already owned him. Melkor's palm enclosed his ankle with ease. Mairon felt fragile like a reflection in a pond, and incisive like particles of ash in the air.

Should he struggle? The bonfire in his lower belly burnt against it. Euphoric awe tamed his nervousness.

Melkor dragged Mairon closer and positioned the maia's long beautiful legs around his waist. Melkor was magnificent, a deadly splendour of a lightning lived in his image.

Melkor stretched above Mairon, and caged him in a confine of his arms. Mairon’s fingers dug into Melkor’s shoulders. He thought he was falling. Falling deeper into the shadow he lay upon. The entire world warped inward, enfolded on the Vala, it was changing and moving off to infinity while only Melkor stayed close.

Then he took a monstrous shape. Became a beast combining in itself the features of many living things. And yet the view seemed harmonious in its own special distorted way. The kind which only the tainted would appreciate under the pressure of Discord, Mairon thought.

But those living things were all eliminated.

Orome hunted Melkor’s creatures. And Mairon used to forge weapons for those hunts. He winced at a great pang of guilt and fear in his guts. He looked up at Melkor again, and this time he saw this fana as a derision, a reproach.

Melkor was huge, his skin was rough grey willows’ bark, a landscape of a world mapped out on a body. His hair was thick and harsh like a boar pelage. He shook his head, and massive branchy antlers swayed. Each protruding vertebrae on his spine spoke of endurance and inevitable deterioration. One of his sharp fangs was broken.

And he had three eyes. Two were blue and one on his forehead - red. And the gaze of that one red eye was drilling into Mairon, it fascinated him more than anything else in this weird appearance. Without even noticing he mimicked its colour and the intensity of its glance. The vision was glued to his own eyes.

Mairon heard the shreds of long forgotten songs about the only or the last of a kind. Killed, gone forever. The beasts' deaths resembled a great portion of the Symphony being erased. A tune wholesome, wonderful and compelling in one moment turned to naught but a ghost of a memory in the next. And no matter how much he tried to revive these unique melodies, he could never succeed.

It is strange, he thought he would be sad. But he was angry. Sadness was just a thin coating like dust or an old torn veil. He was not yet familiar with it.

Seeing Melkor in such a wondrous form made Mairon want to shift too and assume a similar one in compliment and worship, and also apology. He prepared to change his music and shapeshift when the clawed hand with long gnarled fingers grabbed him under the knee and stopped him from changing by a torrent of strong binding charms.

That intimate ungentle touch left red marks on skin. And Mairon liked it. For the first time in his life he did not feel the need to hide from the imperfections of fanar. But it confused him too… But Melkor hushed him, and he relaxed. He would remember this image and try it out later. His gaze roamed across the abnormal build. He already anticipated how he would use the special qualities of such a body and-

Melkor clicked his fingers right in front of Mairon’s nose, severing his musings. Mairon blinked and bit his lip in shame. He must control his thoughts and fantasies better.

Mairon tentatively reached out to stroke the Vala's face. He could see a flicker of surprise in the two blue eyes enkindle and die out in a instant. Mairon's fingertips wandered across the bestial visage, he traced a line of one sharp cheekbone, touched a tip of a torn pointy ear. It twitched, and Mairon smiled. A new disclosure passed in Melkor’s eyes. Again he shook his grotesque head with heavy antlers. The long strong tail swayed back and forth.

Melkor expected dread and not fascination. Or at least more of the first and less of the last. But he hoped for the contrary. When Mairon showed more and more of his curiosity, he rejoiced. This maia was childish. Yet Melkor knew he chose right.

Relieved, he moved to the side and laid his shaggy head on crossed arms. Mairon turned to him and ran his fingers through the thick dark fur.

The tree under which they lay was getting taller. The stars that were caught up in the net of its crown freed themselves from the phantom tethers and flew in great arcs. The path of glowing mist rose up and flowed from one horizon to the other.

Mairon's heart ached, someone was searching for him. But he could not remember-

Distant yowls split the air. One powerful voice against several random ululations. Yowls turned into roars, and the ululations choked. The king of monsters turned up his ears and sniffed.

"Tonight we will not be without dinner," snarled he, rolling. His inscrutable expression cracked into an asymmetric grin.

“We’re not going back home…” said Mairon. Question disguised as a statement.

The terrible red eye glared at him. Mairon looked away.

Clouds were racing under the rotating skies, trees were shedding leaves and then growing them anew. Beneath them the earth was breathing. Snow was falling and melting. Glaciers moved and moaned. Something was screaming, metal grated, beasts and shadows howled. Everything was dying and being born in an endless circle. Skies flashed and colours danced. The smoking mountain released gusts of ash and rivers of fire and then fell asleep again. A series of distant eruptions broke through the night mayhem, mighty echoes walked among the pale rocks.

“Your home is reality itself. The blissful safety of Almaren is untrue to the Song. But this,” Melkor gestured around. "Is the real world."

 


End file.
